


Ground Lovers

by GreyLiliy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Drunkenness, Humor, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23760604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyLiliy/pseuds/GreyLiliy
Summary: Windblade and Pharma do love those Ground Vehicles.
Relationships: Pharma/Ratchet (Transformers), Starscream/Windblade
Kudos: 8





	Ground Lovers

**Author's Note:**

> [First posted to Tumblr on September 2, 2014 as “Drabble #113 - Windblade and Pharma.” Crossposted to Archive of Our Own on April 20, 2020. Only the work itself has been posted.]
> 
> Written as a Request.

“She lets me spin her tires!” Windblade announced, slamming her glass down on the counter. She swayed, and grabbed the bar top to balance herself. “Chromia hates it, but she knows I love it so she lets me.”

“Tires are nice,” Pharma slurred, swirling his glass around and sloshing the bright liquid. He leaned on his elbow, half ready to pass out. Business trips were the best! Nothing but drinks and good company far from home. Where else would he find others of a like mind. Pharma reached over and toasted Windblade’s glass with a clink. “So nice to find another jet that agrees. The others are missing out with their wing and flight obsession.”

“Screw turbines and jet engines!” Windblade said, throwing her hand up in the air, and spilling a bit of her engex on the counter. Windblade’s wing knocked into Pharma’s and she giggled, scooting back over to give her new friend room. Windblade drank down her engex heavily, and turned her head to lick a bit off the side of her thumb. “They just don’t rev the same.”

“No, they don’t,” Pharma sipped, thoughtfully. He sighed happily, imagining good times. “But tires and delightful noises are only the basic perks.”

“True,” Windblade said, nodding sagely. She sipped from her near empty glass, and mumbled as she stared out toward the wall. She licked the side of her lips, picturing Chromia’s shield and how it fit so nicely on the cover of her alt. “There’s also all that windshield space. So much glass.”

“And variety,” Pharma added, leaning over. He flicked Windblade’s glass, and then drank his own down. He plopped the glass on the counter and banged the counter for another round for the both of them. “Your little girlfriend may be a motorcycle, but mine? Guess what he is?”

“A truck?” Windblade asked, taking a random guess. “Or something bigger?”

“Better,” Pharma said, leaning back and holding his hands up. “An ambulance.”

“Ambulance?” Windblade asked, looking over at her bar neighbor. She put her empty glass down, and flicked the straw around the rim. Windblade reached for the new glass, and held it close. “What’s so different about that from a regular car?”

“Two words,” Pharma said. He leaned over and wrapped an arm around Windblade’s shoulders. He leaned in, heavy and drunk, to almost nuzzle the side of her helm. He sipped from his glass and whispered into the side of her helm, “Emergency sirens.”


End file.
